


Who Tells Your Story

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (also no one dies), Adoption, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Gen, I hope you have one just like you, Sorry May will always be May I can't seem to write her as Melinda..., When the grandkids get together, Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story, and May..., anyway, except Phil...already...and came back...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: There is no way to win a competition for "coolest story" in this house. Everyone's parents are just too awesome.Or: The one where Nana and Papa keep the kids for a weekend so the parents can go out.Or: The one where there's a new kid in the house and she needs to start learning her family history





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theclaravoyant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/gifts).



> For theclaravoyant, who works so hard for this fandom and blesses us with so much wonderful fic that we can never repay her for. <3
> 
> From the tumblr weekly prompts "Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?" (the song that wrecks me every.single.time...)
> 
> There is no angst. Only fluff. I have finally done it.

“There is _no way_ that’s a true story.”

“It is too!”

“It can’t be. There is no way your mom did that. Wouldn’t your dad have died? And then you wouldn’t be here!”

“I told you, he wasn’t _really_ my dad!” Sophie snaps back, glaring indignantly at the girl across the table from her. “It was a robot that _looked like_ my dad, and he tried to hurt my mum.”

“I thought your mom was a scientist, not a field agent,” Lia says, crossing her arms. “How would she have been stronger than a robot?”

“She was both,” Sophie reminds the newest member of their circle proudly. “That means she’s super smart, so that’s how she beat the robot.”

“Would you two stop fighting and take your turns, please?” Andrea grumbles from the floor beside the coffee table where the board game is spread out. “At this rate, we’re not going to finish this game until dinner time.”

“Andrea, your mum was there, right?” Sophie says, jumping at her forgotten supporter. “Did she tell you this story before?”

Andrea shakes her head, sitting up. “She told me the story, but she wasn’t there. My mom met your moms after all that went down. But she said that there was a robot that looked like my dad too, but Aunt Daisy beat him before they got on the plane and got out and picked up Mom.”

“Really?” Lia says, sitting up a little straighter, the board game on the table between them all but forgotten. “Did she fly the plane?”

“No, she didn’t know how,” a voice says from the doorway behind her, and all three girls look up at the woman in the doorway. “I was always the pilot, and I still hadn’t gotten around to teaching her how to fly.”

“Nana, you know the story I’m talking about, right?” Sophie says expectantly, glancing at Lia. “Didn’t my mom kill a robot that looked like my dad?”

May smiles, stepping into the room and sitting down on the floor on the fourth side of the board game. “I know the story, but I wasn’t there either. There was a robot that looked like me too, though, and according to your moms, my robot helped them get out of the base in time.”

“What happened to the robot?” Lia asks, but May glances at Sophie and shakes her head.

“You’re only nine, Sophie--I can’t believe your mom told you that story.”

Sophie grins, exposing the gaps where two side teeth haven’t grown in to fill their waiting vacancies yet. “She didn’t tell me that story—Dad did. He thinks it’s funny.”

May rolls her eyes but smiles. “I’m sure he thinks it’s funny _now…”_

“Nana,” Lia says, turning hesitantly towards May. “Daisy—Mom—told me that you were stuck in a computer while there was a robot that looked like you living with my mom and the rest of the family. Is that true?”

On the floor beside them, Andrea sighs dramatically and flops down on her side again, defeated. “Should I just put the game away?”

May smiles, reaching over and tickling the bottom of Andrea’s outstretched foot. The ten-year-old giggles and flinches away, involuntary joy immediately displacing her boredom.

“Come on, sweetheart,” May encourages patiently. “You know Lia hasn’t gotten to hear all these stories yet. Why don’t you help me tell this one?”

Andrea attempts to look extremely put-upon, but she sits up, leaning back against the sofa and looking seriously over at Lia. “Okay. Once upon a time, there was a really smart scientist who had somehow never seen any of the Terminator movies…”

May leans back on one hand and listens too, smiling as the oldest of the three girls details events that she herself missed out on for the most part.  Andrea is as expressive as her mother, as direct, as warm, and May can’t help but feel a glow of undeserved pride as she watches her tell the story. Beside her, Sophie twists her favorite curl around her finger and attempts to look bored, but May can tell she’s listening attentively, memorizing the details so that she can be the one to tell it the next time. She still tries to interrupt with corrections occasionally, but May puts a calming hand on the girl’s knee and helps her listen.

Lia is so enrapt in the story that she actually jumps when the back door suddenly bangs open, four sets of pounding feet heralding the arrival of the rest of the house’s guests.

“And then your mom was trying to get everyone out before it was too late…” Andrea is saying before May cuts her off.

“Just a second,” she says, holding up a finger for Andrea to pause before turning towards the door and raising her voice. “Phil! Get those boys back to the door and make them take their shoes off! I swear to god, if you boys get mud on the carpet…”

“Got it, Mel!” Phil calls back from the direction of the back door, but it’s only a moment more before the girls hear the stampede coming their way.

“Nice, Nana, now they know where we are…” Andrea says with a roll of her eyes just before the door bursts open.

Daniel is riding piggyback on Tony’s shoulders as they tumble through the door, and Stephen is riding on Phil’s as they follow right on their heels.

“What in the world…” May says just loudly enough to be heard as the two pairs run animated circles around their group of girls on the carpet, who shriek and dive under the coffee table, out of harm’s way.

“I’m Han!” Stephen calls from Phil’s shoulders. “And he’s Luke!” He points at Daniel on Tony’s back. “And Tony and Papa are the tauntauns! Except Papa is also Chewy and R2D2, and Tony’s also C3PO and Yoda.”

“We were playing _Empire Strikes Back_ in the backyard,” Tony says in explanation, grinning at May. “But it just started raining. And now I’m so cold I’m gonna die!” He crashes dramatically down on the sofa, rolling carefully on top of his little brother, who immediately bursts into shrieking giggles.

“And what are you all doing?” Phil asks, still holding Stephen on his back, though the flush in his cheeks makes it seem like this simple task is not as easy as it used to be.

“Stephen, give Papa a break before he has a heart attack,” May says sternly, and Stephen pouts but slides obediently off. Phil shoots May a grateful smile and winks at her as he ruffles Stephen’s brown curls.

“I don’t know about you girls,” he says, bending to address the flock under the table, “but I’m starving. How do BLTs sound for lunch?”

The cacophony of answers all ring in the affirmative, and May gets swept along in the swell of small bodies that carry them all towards the door.

“When was the last time we made lunch for eight?” she asks, smiling at her husband as the group tumbles towards the kitchen.

Phil smiles, catching her hand and squeezing it once. “Probably the last time we offered to take all the kids for the weekend. Except that was only five kids last time.”

They reach the kitchen, and soon an assembly line of hands are toasting bread, frying bacon, washing and cutting vegetables, and setting the table. Sophie organizes the younger kids’ tasks while May watches Papa coach Tony through the bacon on the stove. Andrea pulls fruit from the fridge and bags of chips from the pantry while Stephen, Lia, and Daniel fill the long table with plates, cups, and napkins.

“At least with a crowd this big, they’re cheaper by the dozen,” May mutters to Phil as the two of them slice vegetables beside the sink, and he smiles, bumping her deliberately with his elbow as they work.

“How’s Lia getting along with the girls?” he asks quietly, and they both glance unsubtly towards the newest addition to the chaos. The girl is only six, barely older than Daniel, still quiet in her surroundings, her anxious eyes surveying everything with unsettled curiosity. She's met the other kids several times before, but this is the first time that Daisy has been willing to leave Lia without her overnight, obviously afraid to make her distrust her commitment to Lia. There haven't been any tears yet this weekend, and May wants to take that as a good sign. 

“Sophie’s being her usual bossy self,” May says with a sigh, “but Andrea’s been playing mediator between them for most of the day. Lia seems pretty comfortable around them, at least.”

Phil chuckles to himself. “Andrea probably has the knack for mediating from running interference between her brothers.”

May tips her head, agreeing, before looking back down at her cutting board. “Maybe. How were the boys?”

“Stephen seems plenty jealous that Daniel has a big brother. But Tony’s great with them both. Most patient twelve-year-old I’ve ever seen.”

“He gets that long fuse from his dad,” May says with a smile. “Elena still complains he’s a slowpoke.”

“I’m sure,” Phil agrees, piling their vegetables onto a wide plate. “And anyway, who knows. Stephen might get a little brother yet.”

May chuckles but shakes her head. “I think his parents are done with that part of their lives. Jemma says that barring an act of God she’s not having a third. I think they're afraid to be outnumbered.”

“Well, maybe Daisy’s home still has room for more,” Phil offers quietly, trying to make it sound like it’s the most normal suggestion in the world, and they both glance at Lia again.

“I think it does,” May agrees, passing Phil the full plate of sliced carrots, celery, cucumbers, and bell peppers to carry to the table. “But Daisy was nervous enough to bring Lia home. It will take her awhile before she thinks she’s ready for another one.”

“No parent thinks they’re ready,” Phil reminds her, taking the plate from May and looping his free arm around her waist, pulling her into a brief squeeze. “And if they do, they’re proven wrong in the first 24 hours.”

“Ew, Papa!” Stephen cries from behind them, hiding his eyes behind the bowl of lettuce leaves he’s just washed. “Not in front of us!”

The boy scurries to the table, and Phil laughs and smugly kisses May’s cheek before stepping back.

“She knows we’ve got her back, doesn’t she?” he says quietly, hesitating beside May as she turns back to her cutting board and begins slicing tomatoes. “Daisy?”

May shrugs. “Couldn’t hurt to remind her. You know how she is.”

“Yeah,” Phil murmurs, brushing a hand over May’s back as he turns and finally moves towards the table. “She’s just like you.”

May smiles as she watches him join the chaos around the table, complimenting Sophie’s napkin-folding and cheering on Daniel as he carries over a plate of toasted bread. He doesn’t make a big show of setting up Lia in the seat beside his, and May takes a seat at the other end of the table for crowd control.

Lunch is a crazy affair of sandwich assembly and plates being continuously passed up and down the table. Tony and Stephen compete over who can make and eat the tallest sandwich, and Andrea patiently helps Daniel assemble his own plate. May is so wrapped up in watching the children around her that she hasn’t been paying attention to what the kids at his end of the table are talking about, but Sophie’s loud voice suddenly catches her attention.

“Nana!” the girl calls from down across from Phil and Lia, rounding on May expectantly. “Didn’t my mum jump out of a plane?”

“Yeah!” Stephen pipes up beside her. “Back when she was sick with electricity—“

“I’m telling the story!” Sophie shouts, turning an aggressive glare on her brother. 

“That’s the kind of story that two people can tell,” Phil interrupts quickly, “but you need to take turns.”

“I want Nana to tell it,” Lia says quietly, one of the first things she’s asked for all weekend, and May looks down at the girl, surprised. Lia’s hopeful gaze is too familiar, a look she’s seen in a kid’s eyes before, one who was new to the rest of them and desperately wishing for something she was afraid to ask for—afraid to be denied.

“Go on, Nana,” Phil coaxes her, pulling May back to the present. “What do you remember about that day?”

May looks around once at the seven expectant pairs of eyes on her. Tony, Andrea, and Daniel’s peaceful dark ones. Sophie and Stephen’s green ones, bright and eager. Lia’s uncertain hazel ones. Phil’s blue ones, knowing and tender.

None of the children look like her and Phil, but she can’t imagine seeing any other kids around her table. Even Lia, filling in the empty place that’s been waiting at this table made for eight, looks exactly like the piece May hadn’t realized their circle was missing. It’s not the family she thought she’d have. It’s not the family she thought she’d _get_ to have. But whatever chaos has brought them to this point, she’s glad they’re all able to smile as they tell stories about it.

“Well,” May finally begins, “for this story to make sense, you kids need to know about the Battle of New York. Has anyone told you about that yet, Lia?”

“I want to tell her!” Sophie immediately shouts, actually raising her hand like she’s in class.

“Listen to Nana, Sophie,” Phil says, smiling as he catches May’s eye. “Go on, Mel. Tell them how I died.”

“You died?!” Andrea squeaks, her mouth falling open.

“Ma and Dad never told us that one!” Tony says, suddenly very engaged in the conversation. “I knew my dad cut your hand off, but who killed you?

Sophie looks a little green, sinking back in her chair. “How did that happen, Papa Phil?”

May grins, looking back at her husband. “Why don’t you tell that part of the story, Phil? Just leave out Tahiti.”

The eight of them stay crowded around the table long after lunch is finished. By the end of it, Daniel is sitting on May’s lap, Lia is sitting on Phil’s, and Sophie is sitting up on her knees on her chair, calling out requests like an emcee.

“Now tell the one about the ghost on the plane!”

“No, Lia needs to hear about how her mom saved that little boy and his dad!”

“I like the story about when Dad was mind-controlled by that lady from Asgard.”

“No! The one where my parents and Papa and your dad stopped the Watchdogs in Miami!”

May lets the noise wash over her and smiles again, finding Phil’s gaze on the other side of all the shouting. He has the same look on his face, the one that says _I can’t believe we get to be here. I can’t believe we made it through all that._

_I can’t believe we get to have all this._

“One story at a time!” Tony finally says over everyone else, pointing at Stephen. “Your turn, kid. Tell the one about your dad and the Asgardian lady. I haven’t heard that one either.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very attached to my headcanons about the next generation, but I'm afraid to get into a long story about them. Still, happy this prompt gave me an excuse to bring them to life!


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